


The Ghosts That We Knew (Master Art Post)

by CrzyDemona (EvelynRaith)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26980222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvelynRaith/pseuds/CrzyDemona
Summary: Dean can’t help it. Castiel’s laugh is infectious, washing over him and sweeping him up in its tide. His throat and stomach ache with the feel of it, unfamiliar muscles worked past their endurance. He hasn’t laughed like this in weeks, maybe years.Cas doesn’t stop laughing, and Dean relishes in it. It’s such a good sound, deep and throaty. It rumbles over him the same way that Baby’s engine purrs, to where he can almost feel it in his gut. Dean’s giddy, the kind of happy that hunters don’t get to feel, and if it weren’t for the ceiling then he thinks that he might float away. Cas’ eyes crinkle when he laughs and his smile goes wide and gummy. He’s so brilliant, so alive–But you’re dead, Dean thinks helplessly. But you’re dead.—Castiel Novak is the best hunter Dean Winchester has ever worked with. He’s smart, capable, and utterly fearless. He’s also sarcastic, grumpy, and hotter than any hunter has a right to be.Too bad he’s dead.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21
Collections: DCBB 2020





	The Ghosts That We Knew (Master Art Post)

Read it here!  
<https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369028/chapters/66879901>

 **Excerpt:** He arrives at his motel for the evening. He aches from the car and feels like he has a layer of sweat and grime encrusted on his skin. All he wants is a shower and three hours worth of uninterrupted sleep. He’s dreaming of how good lukewarm water will feel as it languidly sluices over his shoulders when his hand slaps at the lights.   
  
He takes notice when the light flickers and threatens to spark. He stops searching for a clean pair of boxers and instead reaches for his gun. “All right, little beastie, come out, come out, wherever you are.”   
  
The light flickers again, strobing wildly, before it blows in a shower of sparks. The room plunges into darkness, lit only by the bathroom light. It’s enough for Dean to catch the shadow which separates from the darkness at the corner of the room. His breath comes faster as the shadow solidifies into a singular form.   
  
Legs, a torso, arms… Dean watches as the shadow person forms, darkness swirling around the figure until, in a seamless transition, the shadow dissipates to reveal a man’s figure. Jeans, boots, leather jacket, dark hair… The man’s eyes flick towards him, his expression unreadable. Dean’s seen him before, those eyes, that face, in the library and then again in the mineshaft. Now he has a name.   
  
Without lowering the gun, he steps forward.   
  
“Castiel.”   
  
The ghost looks at him, face impassive.   
  
“Hello, Dean.” 


End file.
